Vocab: “polepole” means slowly, not to be confused with
“pole” which means sorry
So today’s morning mission was to see if I could get the spare
tyre fixed with enough time left to head off to Tanga for our planned shopping
and swimming trip. After yesterday’s excitement it seemed especially prudent
not to leave without a back-up option! I had some trepidation in this task; did
I really know exactly where to go to find the ‘tyre garage’, would I be able to
communicate what was required (and safely – whatever that might mean, there is
definitely a spectrum to this term I am learning) and would I end up paying a
fair price? Mulling this over, I went to pick up the car from the hospital (where
it is parked for security every night) and, as fortune would have it, I bumped
into the hospital superintendent who was heading that way himself and so came
with me.
This fortuitous encounter made the whole process much easier
and enjoyable. He stayed with me for the whole experience, turning what might
have been somewhat frustrating into a very social and informative event. We
were given chairs (broken plastic garden chairs stacked in twos to make something
that was surprisingly comfortable) at the back of the ‘workshop’ (a high
vaulted tin roof atop four high posts) and watched the goings on. Whilst there
is clear process to things, nothing happens particularly quickly and so you
just have to accept this and enjoy it! It is amazing to watch people work so
effectively with a mix of very basic / improvised tools, pure human
determination (of the sort that would never be allowed in the UK – ‘health and
safety’ would stop that) but with a smattering of some very recognisable modern
tools (the high pressure generator with a cylindrical reservoir over a meter in
diameter). Unfortunately, the inner tube (these 4x4s have them) was beyond repair
and so a new one was needed. Fortunately, a shop just across the road sold them.
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be open until 09.30 as today was the last Saturday of
the month and that means its town cleaning day. All across the country on this day
every month the shops do not open until 09.30 (normally it would be between 7-8am)
to allow cleaning of the streets to take place.
So we waited watching the goings on of a very busy tyre and
high pressure air ‘service station’ (glorified hut really, well actually not
even a hut). Trucks, busses, cars, motorbikes all swinging by to get their
tyres topped up, or air filters blasted, with the occasional puncture to be
repaired. By the end of our wait, I think I had worked out who the boss was,
who the apprentices were and who the customers were.
We were also treated to some powerline tree maintenance.
Which basically involved one tall tree, two chaps with machetes, one flimsy
ladder and a huge potential for death / paralysis / major injury. But remarkably
they hacked down the required branches under the watchful eye of the foreman
(and the required crowd of onlookers / interested parties) without incident.
They made surprisingly light work of some pretty hefty branches.
After this wealth of cultural insight / entertainment for
me, the tyre was ready and I returned to collect the girls. It was then off to
Tanga for food shopping, lunch and a swim. I was also commissioned by Kate to
go to buy a cool box for easier transport of our goods. I followed directions
to Barabara Nne (Street 4) in the old new (non colonial) part, where most of
the shops are. I am getting the hang of Tanga now and from what felt like a
completely unnavigable maze of similar chaos just a few weeks ago, I can now
recognise some of the subtleties and make my way around. I’m getting my eye in
I guess.
It was then lunch, swim and back to Muheza. A very
successful day.
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